A Different Story" - The Truth Shall Set You Free
by MadisonGraves
Summary: Jaime confronts an old friend.


# Chapter One: The Truth Shall Set You Free

Jaime managed to rise from the floor as the woman was carted out into the hall. He gazed over her fragile body, stringy blond hair and closed eyes. Tyler, Val and Hank hurriedly situated the gurney to be carried down the steps. Jaime brushed his hand through his spiked, black hair nervously and then dropped his shuddering arms to his side. He was immobile, as he watched his friends race down the stairs. But he finally found the strength to follow the three; his legs limp and tears emerging along the rims of his dark eyes. Hank gave Jaime an annoyed look as they lifted the woman into the ambulance. 

"Are you okay Jaime?" Val asked kindly, resting her slender hand upon his broad shoulder. Jaime swallowed hard and his breathing became heavy. He turned away from the squad and then stormed down the street without looking behind.

"Jaime!" Tyler yelled, losing concentration on their patient. 

"Ignore him…" Hank demanded, "He needs to grow up if he wants to be one of us!" Tyler and Val fell silent. They drove off, and when Jaime realized they were gone, he gave way and fell onto a cold bench, resting his aching head onto the palms of hands. He blankly stared onto the ash colored street, feeling suspended in thin air, traumatized with mixed feelings of shock, anger, sadness and above all, confusion. He trudged down an obscure alley, his hands buried in the deep pockets of his baggy blue jeans. 

"Like mother, like son…" he mumbled. Jaime walked and walked until he reached a run down apartment; similar to the one he had just visited. He wondered up the haunting stairs to the first floor and knocked on one of the doors violently. After a few minutes, a tall, good looking, seventeen year old boy with rugged, blond hair opened it, surprised to see Jaime on the other side. 

"What are you doing here?" He interrogated, opening the door wider. Jaime let himself in, panic in his eyes.

"I need a hit." He explained, collapsing onto the boy's dirty couch. "I'll pay you later…" 

The boy let a grin slide across his face. "EMT volunteer turns back to his old ways… I knew you couldn't stay a clean cut prep like those fags for long." 

"Hey, those _fags_ are my friends, Steven…" Jaime warned, biting his bottom lip. "C'mon… you're the best dealer around here!" 

"What happened?" Steven replied, suddenly seeming to care. "You're old man hitting you again?" 

"I can handle him," Jaime muttered defensively. Although he hated facing his past and reverting back to his 'bad boy' days, he felt relieved, as though a little baggage had been lifted. Val, Hank and Tyler could never understand him; they didn't know anything about him. But his friends, those that ironically got him trouble, were always loyal; they were always there for him. But most of all, he could relate to them. Steven was orphaned at age fifteen and moved out on his own with his older brother; the two strived to make a living. Selling drugs kept him alive, he wouldn't dare move into a foster home, even though his brother probably wasn't much greater. His father was a drunk and that man took his wife, as well as himself to the grave one fateful night in the car after a party. Jaime could relate to him. Jaime's mother had tried to commit suicide when Jaime was only five. She fell into a deep, unhealthy depression afterwards and was moved into a mental hospital; Jaime was taken out of her care. He hadn't seen his mother since… until the EMT squad came to her rescue. His father came into his life when his mother was out of the picture. His father didn't have any desire to have Jaime as a child… he was a heavy alcoholic and was emotionally and physically abusive all of Jaime's life… Jaime didn't really know any different. As Jaime got older, he would fight back, understanding that his situation was not normal, but still feeling as though he probably deserved it… as long as Jaime strayed away from home, he could handle it. He would always sleep at a friend's house, mostly Stevens'. He'd party all night and drowned all his pain in drugs or alcohol, but that only made him feel worse, he felt like he was stooping to his father's level. But now, after joining the EMT, he easily lied off the drugs and alcohol, but now he had to actually deal with all his feelings, and that wasn't something he wanted to do. Seeing his mother after ten years was only making it harder to hold all his thoughts and anger inside. The idea of Caitie and the squad finding out about his train wreck of a life didn't excite him. But he realized it wasn't drugs he wanted, it was a friend… somebody he could talk to. Everyone, except for the old crowd was ruled out. "I saw my mom." Jaime suddenly blurted out, resting his elbows on his legs and bending over, staring at the stained carpet. "We had to load her into an ambulance… over dose." 

"She okay?" Steven asked, studying Jaime's posture. 

"I don't know… I jetted outa there…" Steven always had a way of making a joke out of the serious matters of life, but it was harder to do so now… he had felt betrayed by Jaime, and he wasn't sure they could ever be friends again… not like they were. 

"You know, you don't belong with Val and her gang." Steven said. Jaime looked up at him in deep thought.

"If you got to know 'em, you'd realize they _are_ people," Jaime retorted, "they _do _have feelings… they're lives aren't perfect." 

"You just gonna keep trying to forget all about us, Jaime?" Steven yelled, standing from the chair. "Who was there that night when you're father beat you so bad you could barely walk? You know, I mean, who always let you crash at their house? And now, you just turn your back on us because you've got some new friends… and now you come crawling back for more, well, that's just fine, Jaime! Fuck you and your friends!" Jaime was quiet at first and he sat still on the couch. 

"I didn't desert you." Jaime replied, "_You_ deserted _me_…" 

## Madison Graves

## [Madison_Graves@hotmail.com][1]

   [1]: mailto:Madison_Graves@hotmail.com



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